


Gill and Cradle - Order 66

by rustic_space_fiddle



Series: The Adventures of Gill and Cradle [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Brothers, End of the Jedi order, Escape, Friendship, Gill and Cradle, Not a ship, Order 66, Post-Order 66, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, What even goes here, clan medrit, clone and padawan, dont ship my kids, ill end you, its not bad tho, the adventures of gill and cradle, whoopdedoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rustic_space_fiddle/pseuds/rustic_space_fiddle
Summary: Order 66 is declared a few days after Gill earns the rank of Padawan, a few days before being shipped out to his new master, the Jedi Aayla Secura. This is a rough account of the tragedy and the aftermath in relation to Gill Boessta and his friend Cradle.(Thank you to pilotslifeforme for all her help in figuring out this scheme. ❤️💚)
Relationships: Original Clone Trooper Character(s) & Original Character(s)
Series: The Adventures of Gill and Cradle [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670602
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	1. Hit and Run

**Author's Note:**

> The formatting is a little unconventional, but roll with me here. (Also I’m so sorry if I switch tenses. I tried so hard to stay consistent and to fix any mistakes but I wrote the vast majority of this during caffeine highs at 2 AM, so please excuse my rubbish writing.

**The Setup**

Gill is sitting in a window, away from everyone else, thinking about his parents and wishing that Cradle’s shift would end so they could go to the fountain and practice his Force tricks. They were shabby and hardly anything notable, but Cradle thought they were fun, and Gill needed the practice.

* * *

**The Order**

Unbeknownst to Gill, Order 66 is given, and the clones on the premises go berserk. Blasterfire rings out, and screams being cut short. Gill almost falls out the, his brain suddenly filled with cries and buzzing. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but he knows he needs to hide. He slips down and slinks along the halls in the shadows, searching for answers.

Through a distant doorway, Gill spots a Padawan with her saber drawn blocking blasterfire. Blue. Clone fire. No. The Padawan backed out of view as the blasterfire began to overcome her, giving a last cry as the perpetrators came into view, furiously blasting at the young Jedi. Gill couldn’t breathe. His head is filled with so much noise he could hardly hear the footsteps trooping behind him. Thankfully, he catches wind of them before they can spot him, and slips into the air vents. He scuttles away into the dark, trying to reason with himself. What is happening? Why are the clones killing Padawans? Is he next? Where is Cradle?

 _Cradle_.

Gill pauses, trying to clear his screaming mind. The buzzing lulls as he strains, struggling to reach out in the Force to find Cradle. Every clone feels different. None of them are the same. Cradle is unique. It takes a few tries, but finally he catches a glimpse of him. He is on the upper levels, near the dorms. His presence seems… off.

Gill shakes off that feeling and crawls through the ducts, following the feeling of Cradle until he ends up at the rear-end of the dorms. Gill peers through the grating to make sure the coast is clear, then crawled free.

“ _Cradle?_ ” he whispers. “ _Cradle!_ ”

He tiptoes along the walls, hoping to find the guard before someone else finds himself. “ _Cradle, are you there?_ ”

* * *

**The Realization**

A clattering of boots on crete; Gill’s hand goes to his lightsaber. Cradle comes around the corner, his shield in one hand and his long baton in the other. He spots Gill—Gill can tell because he stops suddenly, the visor on his bucketed head glaring him down. He doesn’t move.

A sick chill fills Gill’s gut. He hadn’t even considered that Cradle might’ve turned against them too.

“Cradle,” he says carefully, trying to stay calm. His hand still lingers over his lightsaber. “What’s happening? What’s going—”

The Fight

Cradle lurches with a cry and strikes out at Cradle with his staff, swinging down toward Gill’s head. Gill ducks to the side, grabbing his lightsaber as he came to a crouching position. His head is buzzing again. Screaming. Cradle feels so wrong. Cradle swings again, and Gill dodges again, putting his lightsaber hand up in self defense, unable to bring himself to ignite it.

“Cradle! Cradle, what are you doing?!”

Cradle swings at his hand, smashing the Jedi weapon out of Gill’s grip. Gill yelps in pain, falling backwards and attempting to push himself away from the oncoming clone. Another hit, Gill just barely managing to avoid it, the staff across cracking a crossing his shoulder.

“Stop!”

Cradle raises his staff again.

“Cradle, what—?!” 

Cradle pauses. His shoulders are shaking from the effort of the fight. Gill can hear him breathing raggedly underneath his helmet.

“I’m— I’m sorry, Gill,” he grits. “But good soldiers follow orders.”

With that, he cracks, and he swings at Gill’s head with all his strength. Gill, not knowing what else to do, squeezes his eyes shut with desperation. and with a dull shock, a wave of Force blasts outward. The force knocks Cradle back against the opposite wall, his helmet striking the crete so hard that his cracks. The clone slumps down to the floor, dropping his weapons and crumpling onto his face.

* * *

**The Escape**

Gill sits still for a moment, shaking, his mind, which had been so busy, is now empty except for a ringing in his ears. A shiver—more clones are on their way. He has to go.

But Cradle. He couldn’t leave him. He couldn’t leave him here. He could explain. He could explain why whatever orders he got were wrong. They could fix this.

Gill struggles to his feet, cradling his broken hand to his chest, and makes his way to Cradle’s inert form. He grabs him as best he can and lugs him to the vent, cracking it open and pulling Cradle inside. Thank the Force they were meant to ventilate such a large space. He returns the grating and shuffles backward, putting distance between them at the room. Just in time. Six clones hurry into the room, not the Coruscant Guard, with blasters raised. They break off like a pack of hounds, searching amid the bunks and trunks for any sign of life. They come across Cradle’s abandoned shield and staff.

“Where’s CT-3726?”

One of them appears to look at the grate—Gill’s breath hitches. They do another once over.

“We don’t have time for this. We can deal with him later. Lord Sidious is waiting for a report. Move out.” They leave.

Gill sits in the dark with Cradle’s body for what seems like hours, waiting for the sound to stop. Finally, the only thing he can hear is the sound of fire crackling. How in blazes is he gonna get out of this? There is absolutely no way he’s make it to the bottom floors, or get past the troopers that are undoubtedly crawling the place. It’s the Separatist occupation all over again. Cradle’s comlink buzzes—Gill jumps.

“All rooms cleared. All personnel, make your way to the exits, make sure no one else leaves or gets in.”

Gill breathes a sigh of near relief. At least the way would be mostly clear. The hardest part is going to be getting past the guards… he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. He pushes out the grate and hauls Cradle out after him. Grunting with the effort, he managed to hoist Cradle up until he’s half-carrying him, and together they stumble down the hall. Along the way, he grabs a DC-15S blaster from a fallen clone. Gill recognizes his armor. He moves on.

They make it about a hundred yards from a pair of shuttle platforms, but no farther. The exit is crawling with troopers. Gill huddles against the wall, trying to think of a way around them. There isn’t one. What about fighting his way through? No way. He knows how to fight, but there are too many, and he has Cradle to lug. Besides, he doesn’t want to kill anyone. As he crouches, thinking, soft footsteps patter up behind him. Gill’s head whips around to see Zett Jukassa, a fellow Padawan.

“Gill?” Zett is bewildered.

“Zett!” Gill whispers. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know. One minute they were fine. The next—I think someone is manipulating them. Ordered them to kill all the Jedi.”

“They mentioned Lord Sidious,” Gill adds. “I’d heard rumors but… how would _they_ know him?”

“I’m not sure.” Zett’s eyes are scanning the troops at the platforms. “But right now, we need to leave.”

“Agreed.”

Zett glances at Cradle. “Are we taking him?”

“What- yeah,” Gill frowns. “Of course we are.”

Zett looks uncertain. “That’s seems unwise. But alright.” He gives another look out the window. His eyes brighten.

“A speeder just landed. A senator, by the look. We need to go now. I’ll distract the clones, you make a break for the platform. There should be something there. With any luck, I’ll meet you there.”

He starts for the door, pulling out his lightsaber. Gill hoists Cradle back up.

“But I thought Master Yoda said there was no such thing as luck!”

Zett doesn’t answer, bounding through the door and across the platform, brandishing his glowing blade with a surprising amount of skill against the blasterfire of the clones. Meanwhile, Gill quickly slips around to the other platform. Thankfully, a speeder is sitting at the other platform, waiting. He heaves Cradle up with all his might (and a little Force) and dumps him into the backseat, then vaults himself into the pilot’s seat, firing up the engines.

He looks back over at the other platform, about to call for Zett to join him—but Zett is overtaken and blasted to the floor. The senator leaps into his own speeder and begins his own getaway, the blasterfire now turned on him. Heart in his throat, Gill sits back and guns it, grateful for the practice he had with speeders back home. He tears out of there before anyone even notices he’s leaving, barely dodging stray blaster bolts.

He manages to make it to spaceport, where he bargains away Cradle’s helmet and what credits he has left for a spot aboard a small personal transport vessel. However, before they have time to take off, the new Empire arrives, clones flooding the place in a massive search. Perhaps Gill hasn’t been as discrete as he thinks. So, leaving his unconscious friend in the cargo hold, Gill sneaks up front, presses buttons until the ship rises to life, and—praying to the Force that he won’t crash the ship—takes off into the air, leaving the pilot behind.

“It’s fine,” Gill soothed himself. “They don’t want the pilot. They want me. And Cradle.”

Miraculously, they make it out of atmo and into the blackness of space, away from the remnants of the Jedi Order.

_To be continued..._


	2. Call to Refuge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the last chapter, Order 66 was enacted. Somehow, by some miracle, Gill managed to escape the attacks of the clones and got away from the Jedi Temple with an unconscious Cradle in tow. After Gill steals a ship, they make it out of atmo and into the blackness of space, away from the remnants of the Jedi Order...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse my Mandalorian. I tried my best.

...

  
Some shuffling behind him. Gill turns around to see Cradle standing in the hatchway, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Cradle?” Gill asks tentatively. His hand grips the blaster in his lap. “Are you alright?”

Cradle looks up at him, almost squinting. “Where— where are we?”

“Space. We’ve left Coruscant.”

“What? I— Oh. Oh no.” Cradle’s hands go to his head.

Gill swallows. “Cradle. What’s wrong?”

Cradle seems shrink in on himself. “The Jedi are traitors to the Republic. That means you.”

“I disagree,” Gill says. “I’m no traitor. Only traitor I see here is you.”

“No. The Jedi betrayed the Republic, all of them!” Cradle sounds so unlike himself. “For that, Order 66 declares that you have to die.”

“You can’t believe that!” Gill cries. “Cradle, whatever order you have, you need to forget it! The best soldier knows what orders he shouldn’t follow, you said that yourself!”

“I- I can’t.” He looks up Gill, looking suddenly horrified. His voice clears: “Shoot me.”

“I don’t want to,” Gill says, throat dry. “You don’t have to do this. Whatever this is, it’s just another stupid rule, and we’re great at breaking rules, remember?”

Cradle stares at him with blank, desperate eyes.

“Besides,” Gill goes on, hopeful. It looks like he’s getting through to him. “Who’s gonna yell at you for it? Fox? Yoda? Windu? They’re not here!”

 _Yeah, and they’re probably dead,_ his brain whispers. He shakes off that thought. “You don’t have to follow that order, Cradle.”

Cradle says nothing. Gill can see his jaw grit. He’s clenching his fists so tightly that his arms are shaking.

“I can’t,” he grinds out, and his face is pained. “There’s something—in my head, Gill. I can’t ignore it. Just shoot me, please, before I kill you.”

“I don’t—“

Cradle lunges at him with frightening speed, hands outstretched, reaching for the boy’s throat.

Gill fires wildly at him, striking him in the left shoulder. Stunned, Cradle ducks backward. Quickly, Gill shifts the blaster into stun mode and fires three shots, all of them hitting their mark and sending Cradle to the floor in an unconscious heap yet again.

* * *

**The Call**

Breathing hard, Gill gets up and drags Cradle to the cot stationed in the back, takes the Republic-distributed cuffs from Cradle’s belt, and latches him to a grate without a word. He checks the clone’s shoulder for the blaster hit, but thankfully, the wound isn’t bad. After finding and administering a small bacta-patch, he returns to his station at the front, where he curls up, resigned, on the pilot’s chair and gazes out into the black. He is all alone. All alone in the black of space. No home. The only home left to him has been razed and burned, just like his home back on Mirial. Now he has nothing, and with Cradle on this Jedi-killing craze, he might have no one, either.

Wait. There is someone.

_The General_.

She is out there, somewhere. But how in blazes would he find her? He knows she’s most likely on Mandalore, but where on Mandalore? It isn’t like she has a homing beacon or anything.

_Gill, you idiot, you have the Force. Just sense her out!_

That’d be quite a feat though. Attempting to sense one person in a galaxy of gazillions. Impossible, even.

Nothing is impossible, Master Yoda had said.

 _I guess I’ll try_ , he thinks.

Master Yoda also said do, not try.

_I guess I’ll try to do, then._

He sets their course for Mandalore as a fallback, then shut his eyes and tries to remember what the General’s presence feels like, to find it, to follow it. He sits there in the pilot’s seat for ten minutes, twenty minutes, then thirty, until almost an hour has passed.

Gill almost gives up at least seven times but each time he tells himself: “What if you’re right there, and you miss it because you gave up just two seconds too soon?” So he stuck with it, until suddenly—

Something.

He opens his eyes, hands flying to the console. There. So close. A signal. Encrypted. If he can just get his hands on… Got it!

The holoterminal glows and up springs a series of holoimages. Not in Basic, though.

“Mando’a,” Gill murmurs. This is the work of the General, for sure. Somewhere on the other end of this message, she’s waiting.

Now he just needs to get past the encryption code. Thankfully for him, she had spent many a spare hour during her visits to Coruscant teaching him Mando’a, and Cradle too. It takes a little careful thought, some brain wracking, and a couple educated guesses, but he breaks through the encryption, and a message plays:

_“Defective clones seeking refuge; shelter at these coordinates: 363.452 , 272.211, 66°30’.”_

The message repeats itself twice more, then vanishes.

A grin of relief washes over Gill’s face.

“The General’s out there!” he shouts back at Cradle. “We’re gonna make it!”

No response, of course.

After some careful examination of the controls and a little prayer, Gill plugs in the coordinates and safety calculations, then launches into hyperspace.

For the next three and a half days, Gill monitors their progress and keeps watch over Cradle, bringing him portions of the meager supply of food they have aboard. He sits nearby, out of reach, and talks to him. Cradle, for the majority, doesn’t say much of anything or even acknowledge Gill’s presence. But, as the time passes, he begins to add to their on-sided conversation with little quips and nods. Even a chuckle, at one point. Gill never gets within reach, but he thinks he’s getting through to him.

Gill doesn’t sleep a wink the entire trip out of fear of missing their stop and of Cradle getting loose. A few times the ship creaks, and Gill shoots up each time thinking that he fell asleep and Cradle was sneaking up to kill him. Sleep isn’t an option. He only stops to meditate like his teachers taught him, which thankfully gives him just enough rest to keep him functioning, and enough peace to keep him sane.

At last, the dash beeps, a signal that they’re about to come out of hyperspace. Gill, doing his best to keep his mind clear, guides the ship out and into the atmosphere of Mandalore, where he begins the navigation to whatever safe haven the General has in store for them.

* * *

**The Help**

The safe haven is located near the northern hemisphere of Mandalore, securely hidden amid a dense green forest. If the message hadn’t been so clear and the Force so assuring, Gill would’ve assumed there was a mistake. Finally, following the coordinates to the number, he descends their ship amid the trees onto a landing platform, hitting the ground with a little less grace than he intends. By which this means he veered violently off to the right and gently crashed into the brush surrounding the platform. Gill blames the rain for this.

He teeters out of the cockpit and and makes his way to where Cradle is sitting, looking a little shaken and annoyed.

“Crummy landing,” he mutters as Gill crawls over a box that had been shifted in the crash.

“Sorry, pal,” Gill replies mercilessly. “Never flown a starship myself before. Maybe if you weren’t so bonkers you could’ve helped out a bit.”

Cradle grunts. Gill hurries over to the door and tries to open it. Jammed. “Blast it.”

He pulled his lightsaber from his belt and cut a crude hole in the door, Forcing the new opening outward. Fresh, clean air rushed in, filling Gill’s nostrils. For a second, he is reminded of home.

No time for that. He turns back toward Cradle; grabs up the blaster and eyes him.

“Do you think you can make it without trying to strangle me?” He doesn’t care what the answer is. There’s only one way to do this.

Cradle shakes his head.

“Figured. The outpost or whatever this is looks can only be a couple hundred klicks away. I’ll stun you a little and drag you. How does that sound?”

Cradle glares at him.

“Glad you agree. Hold still.” Gill lowers the stun power, levels it at his friend, and after a second’s hesitation, fires. Cradle gives a soft “oof!” and slumps over, still mostly conscious, but dizzy as a top.

Gill tucks the blaster under his arm and hefts him up, helping him stagger to the door. He still favors his injured hand. With a little wriggling, they make it through, and begin the trek toward the outpost.

Before they even make it halfway, three helmeted figures run up to them, each wielding a blaster, which they raise as they came to a crisp halt in front of the duo. Gill stops dead in his tracks, only now considering the idea that maybe he isn’t wanted here.

“ _Ke'mot!_ ” the one in front yells. Their armor is adorned with yellow accents similar to the ones Kote has on her armor. This has to the right place. “ _Tion'cuy?_ ”

Gill swallows. “ _Burc'ya,_ ” he says, calling once again on the General’s lessons. He drops his blaster. “ _Mhi cuyi burc’yase!_ My name is Gill Boessta. This is Cradle. He’s a trooper from the GAR—he needs help. We followed General Kote Medrit’s signal.” He hesitates. “She is here, isn’t she? I didn’t- we didn’t know where else to go.”

The guards study them for a moment, keeping their weapons trained securely on them. “Has his chip been removed?” the leader asks, nodding to the lolling Cradle.

Gill blinks. “Chip? What-“

“Get him inside,” the leader barks urgently. The two other guards rush forward and lift Cradle out of Gill’s grasp before he protest, each taking an arm and hurrying toward the outpost. The leader turns to Gill, who notices his helmeted gaze fall on the lightsaber hanging at his belt.

_Defective_ clones _seeking refuge…_ it said nothing about Padawans.

Maybe he isn’t welcome after all.

The guard holds out his hand. “Lightsaber.”

Gill glares at him. “What, are you scared? I’m not gonna hurt anybody.”

“We’ll be the judge of that. Hand it over, or get out.”

_Anger leads to the Dark Side,_ Gill reminds himself.

“Fine,” he concedes, unclipping it from his belt and stuffing into his hand. “But I better get it back. I worked hard on that thing.”

“Maybe. We’re you followed?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Mm. Come with me,” the guard says, and turns to go after the others.

Gill shivers and follows. ~~~~

* * *

**The Home**

The guard leads him into the refuge, only turning back once to see if Gill is following. It looks like a normal village, with homes and shops, and even a few children peeking through windows. The trees surrounding the stead draw up high over even the tallest of the roofs, swaying gently in the wind. Though they stand as high and as thick as a wall, there is no trapped feeling. He can still see the sky, grey though it is. The only unpleasant thing is the bitter breeze that feels like it’s freezing the rain to his skin. Aside from that, Gill is inclined to call the place beautiful. Though the streets are fairly empty due to the rain, there are still a few helmeted and bare-headed Mandalorians milling quietly about their days as if the galaxy hadn’t ended just a few days ago. He supposed it hasn’t really ended, not for everyone.

Out the corner of his eye, he sees a man with the same face as Cradle, a shaven head, and a bandage on the right side of his skull. He’s talking with another man, not a clone, and Gill could sense that he is exceedingly distressed.

_Same, brother,_ Gill thinks, and kept on after the guard.

A short trek later, they come up to a strong looking building set at the center of the village, with two guards stationed at the doors. Gill’s guide stops for a second as he enters the building, whispering something to the guards. Gill follows him inside, a sick feeling in his gut, wondering where Cradle is, but darn glad to be out of that freezing rain.

As he enters, the guard taps a button on his forearm armor. Likely a comm. Gill is looking about the hallway, taking in his surroundings and shivering, when another armor-clad guard enters the room. This one is wearing clone armor, again with the same yellow motifs that the General wore. He wore no helmet, and it is blatantly obvious that he is a clone. He eyes Gill, then turns to the guard.

“This is the new arrival?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” the guard replies. “A clone was with him—Cradle, he said. They arrived about ten minutes ago. The clone was taken to medical for the operation. I wasn’t sure about the youngling. I took his lightsaber, but—“

“Lightsaber?”

“Yes sir,” the guard says, and hands him Gill’s weapon. “He’s a Jedi youngling, I believe.”

“I’m right here,” Gill pipes, feeling very unwelcome. The temperature seems to have dropped ten degrees.

Neither man says anything.

“I’ll take it from here,” the clone says. “Return to your post.”

“Yes sir.” The guard leaves the way they came. 

The clone then grasps Gill firmly by the arms and begins to guide him roughly down the hall.

“‘Ey!” Gill protests, almost tripping over himself. “I’m not running-“

“Jedi are not to be trusted,” the clone said shortly. 

Gill wants to stomp his stupid toes. “I’m not every Jedi you’ve ever met, _di’kut!_ ” He put special emphasis on the “ _di’kut_ ”. “I’m not even a Jedi—I’m barely a Padawan.”

“It makes no difference. The General will decide.”

“Yeah, she _will_ decide,” Gill spat. “She’ll decide I’m not a menace because she knows me, and because she’s not a total bleeding _DI’KUT_ —“

“Gill?” A voice from down the hall.

“General?” Gill called hopefully. “Kote, it’s me!”

Hurrying footsteps, and General Kote Medrit of Clan Medrit appeared. Her eyes lit up when she saw Gill, who wrenches himself free and runs to her. She catches him in a hug, looking an almost bewildered mixture of surprised, delighted, and concerned.

“General, I-“ the clone says, mere steps behind.

“It’s alright, Shiny,” Kote tells him. “I know him.”

“He’s a Jedi, ma’am.” He still seems dubious.

“He can be trusted as well as any one of our own,” she assures.

That’s enough for Shiny. “Yes, ma’am.”

Kote pulls away from the hug, her hands on Gill’s shoulders. “What are you doing here?” Her face hardens. “Where’s Cradle?”

Gill is so relieved to finally feel safe that he can’t speak for a second.

“He’s here,” he says. “The guards took him to get a chip out. But General- Kote, something happened. They started killing the Jedi- Cradle tried to _kill_ me—!”

“Shh,” Kote hushes him, giving a glance to Shiny, who is looking away uncomfortably. “I know. I just got back myself. It’s been a rough few days.”

She looks more worn than usual.

“Is Cradle gonna be alright?” Gill asks. He doesn’t realize he’s gripping Kote’s hand.

“He’ll be fine. The chip they spoke of—it’s a long story. Now really isn’t the time. You’re probably tired.” She addresses Shiny: “Commander, run and do a check on the clone they brought in. Tell them to keep me updated on his condition. Then get some rest, will you?”

Shiny nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good man.”

Shiny turns and leaves.

“Now,” the General says, putting an arm around Gill’s shoulder. “Let’s get you settled in.”

“Settled in?”

“Did you have somewhere else to go?”

“No…” he concedes quietly. “But it doesn’t seem like anyone wants Jedi here.”

“It’s complicated, true,” she admits. “But I promise, it won’t be an issue. _Cin vhetin._ Shiny will come around, and you’re my friend. We won’t leave you in the cold.

Gill nods numbly as he follows her, the relief of knowing they were safe finally opening the gates for all the emotion he’d been stowing away for the past four days.

They’re going to be alright.

* * *

_**THE END** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the end. Pilotslifeforme and I sort of planned this out ages ago. There’s more to come for Gill and Cradle. Kote definitely doesn’t plan on letting them go without street smarts for very long, and now they are family of Clan Medrit. :D


End file.
